


Fear Itself

by werenotthelosechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Betrayal, Biting, Bondage, Breeding, Demon Dean, Dominant Dean, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fear, Horror, Impala, Impregnation, Intense, Love Stories, Mistakes, Power Dynamics, Pregnancy, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Scary Dean, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, anger issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werenotthelosechesters/pseuds/werenotthelosechesters
Summary: Waiting tables at The Black Spur gets a hell of a lot more interesting when a sexy stranger with a give 'em hell attitude passes through. And when you find yourself pregnant with his baby, things spiral out of control. Thank God Cas and Sam are there to fight in your corner and try to save Dean from himself.





	1. Dark Parking Lots

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there. Thanks for taking a chance on my story. I hope you like it. If this storyline sounds familiar at all, it's because it's a new and improved version of the story AFTER HOURS that I tried to write while I was in the hospital. Unfortunatley, life got pretty chaotic, so I wanted to wait until I was better, scrap the old story, edit it so it's shiny and new and publish it under a new name. So if you've read the old one and liked it, I'm very sorry for not being consistent with uploading new chapters, I'll do better this time! 
> 
> If this is a new story for you, enjoy!
> 
> Much Love, WNTLC.

It’s Friday night just after 2:30am and I’m finishing up my shift at The Black Spur, a small bar on the outskirts of town with a rough reputation. Usually I wouldn’t be closing up alone but Kenny, the new dishwasher, went home early because he was feeling sick. As I step outside I scan the parking lot and notice that there’s another car still parked a few spaces away from mine. I squint to see if anyone is inside but it’s too dark to see much. It’s not unusual for customers to leave their cars overnight if they’ve had too much to drink, so I try to relax and focus on locking up.

Putting the keys back into my purse, I start walking towards my car. I can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that I’m being watched so I pick up the pace of my strides. I look behind me and my eyes are drawn to the shadows, unsure if I see something moving or if my imagination is getting the best of me. With a shaky intake of breath, I turn back around and come face to face with a man who’s about a foot taller than I am. A few startled quick steps backwards cause me to trip over my own feet and land on my ass in the gravel. Where the hell did he come from? The man gives me a sinister smile as he grabs me by the lapels of my jacket and drags me to my feet. 

I feel my throat tighten and tears well up in my eyes. He’s holding me close to him now, and I look away, trying to thrust my purse against him. “Please, there’s 200$ in the side pocket, just take it. Please let me go. Please-” He cuts me off by sticking a finger over my lips in a silencing motion. He’s shaking his head and chuckling darkly. When he catches my gaze I swear his green eyes turn black for a moment, and my eyes widen in fear as I try and fail to convince myself that the dim lighting from the streetlamp is playing tricks on me.

I recognize him then, Dean, a customer that has been hanging around the bar the last couple of nights. He’d quickly become problematic; drinking heavily and aggressively hitting on most of the women. He’d sparked complaints from the other staff members and even started a couple of fights. When the bouncer tried to kick him out, he’d leaned in and calmly whispered something into his ear. I have no idea what happened between them, but it was clear from that point on that the man was in charge. 

Against my better judgement and despite his flaws, I’d thought he was hot and I caught myself looking over at him more times than I’d care to confess. When I try to scream, he covers my mouth with one hand and leans in to whisper into my ear. “Hey, sweetheart. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, and trust me… I’d pick the easy way if I were you.” 

He smells of whiskey, leather and sweat- heady and masculine, but not unpleasant. He finally lets go of my jacket and I take off running in the direction of my car. He catches up to me within a few strides and he grabs my arm firmly enough to make me wince and drop my purse. He flashes a threatening smile and raises an eyebrow. “All right, hard way it is. I don’t mind a little chase if it gets your motor runnin’.”

I try to kick him, but he sees it coming and moves his leg out of the way. “You wanna play rough? Okay.” He looks almost amused by my attempts to throw him off, indulging me for a few moments before he suddenly pulls me in close by the hair, making me shriek before he silences me by pressing his lips hard against my own. When I don’t respond, he laces his body around mine to keep my arms at my sides. For the first time, I realize that it’s a cool night, and the short skirt and thin shirt I’d worn to work isn’t doing much to protect me from the chill. His body heat is pleasant and I lean into the touch, but angry tears start leaking down my cheeks as I admit this to myself.  
He tries again for a kiss, but I pull my face away and he growls. The deep sound sends chills down my spine and excites me at the same time. He leans in more forcefully and captures my bottom lip between his teeth. He bites down hard enough to make me cry out, but the next second his lips sealed against my mouth and I’m kissing him back. He’s forceful and dominant. I try to clear my head but all I can imagine is his strong hands holding me down and spreading my legs to have his way with me. I’ve always liked it rough, and I quietly wonder what the hell is wrong with me because I’m starting to get turned on.

Dean moves away from my lips to make his way down my neck, sucking harshly in a few places to mark the delicate skin there. My breath catches in my throat as I realize I’ll probably have more than a few bruises and bumps by the time he’s finished with me. He sharply nips at my earlobe when he palms at my ass and he continues to knead the flesh as he whispers hotly. “See, here’s the deal. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be sticking around, but I need to get some bitch knocked up before I leave town, you know… continue the bloodline and all that.” 

I swallow thickly at the severity of what he’s saying. He’s going to get me pregnant. The small blaze in the pit of my stomach flares into a roaring inferno as some primal part of me surfaces. I hang my head in shame, feeling betrayed by my body. He manhandles me, pulling and dragging with pure physical force until he has me standing near the hood of his car. The primitive part of my brain takes over then, letting all logic fall by the wayside in favor of fulfilling the need that this man has ignited in me. 

Without hesitation, Dean grabs me by the waist and spins me so I’m no longer facing him. I squeeze my thighs together in a last half-hearted attempt to stop the inevitable from happening. He puts one hand on my hip and the other in the middle of my back, which he uses to slam my torso against the hood of his car. I feel a sharp pang as my forehead hits the hard surface. He leans over me to keep my body pinned down and the contrast in temperature from the cold metal of the impala and his warm chest against my back makes me shiver. “Shit, been watchin’ you all night in this tight little skirt, do you have any idea what you do to me?”  
It doesn’t take long for me to find out, because as he rolls his hips against mine I can feel the hard length of him pressed against my ass. My heart pounds in my chest and I stick my hips out to feel as much of him as possible. He groans at the friction and grows impatient. One of his legs is slotted between my thighs and he raises it to rub forcefully against my panty-covered sex. My hips move of their own accord and he pulls me up by the shoulders so quickly that I would have lost my balance if he wasn’t holding me in place. 

He pulls up the hem of my shirt so the fabric sits above my bra, then tugs the cups down to expose my tits, ripping the lacy fabric in his haste. He squeezes my chest firmly then pinches my nipples harshly between his fingers, making me gasp. Without warning, he pushes me back down against the cold metal, the icy feeling causing my nipples to harden. He gives a particularly rough shove between my legs which causes me to moan then whimper as he pulls it way. I roll my hips down to chase the friction, but he clicks his tongue and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re fuckin’ ready for it, aren’t you? Are you wet for me?” He hikes up my skirt around my waist and gives my ass a hard spank before yanking my panties halfway down my thighs. He slides a finger between my folds and groans at the wetness he finds. He breaches my entrance with his finger and I bite my lip, it’s been a long time since I’ve had something inside me, and now I’m craving it. “Your pussy’s gonna feel so good stretched around my cock.”

He pulls out his finger and quickly undoes his belt, the sound of his buckle opening and fly coming undone only exciting me further. I expect him to thrust in immediately, but instead I feel two fingers slide through my folds, then after a moment I begin hearing the tell-tale squelching noises of him rubbing himself, using my slick juices as lube. I wonder how big his cock is, and my pussy aches with need. I cry out in frustration, my voice sounding breathless and broken. “Please, I need your cock inside me. Fuck me.”

I feel him slip between my lips, teasing at my entrance before moving to brush against my clit. I sigh at the delicious sensation as he does this a couple more times before finally pushing in. He’s bigger than I’d anticipated and there’s a slight sting as he bottoms out. He doesn’t give me time to adjust and the burn bleeds into pleasure as he puts his weight against my back, and moves a hand around my body to grab at my tits. His thrusts are deep and rough, I can feel his hot breath against my cheek as he groans. “You’re so fucking tight. I thought I was gonna split you open.”

At that, his hand slides down my body and comes to rest between my legs. He runs his fingers up and down my lips a few times as his cock moves in and out. His fingertip settles on my clit, rubbing small circles against the sensitive nub. My breath is coming in shallow pants and I can feel myself coming closer to my peak. He uses his other hand to grab me by the hair, pulling my head to the side so he can continue his assault on my neck. His thrusts are shallower now, he’s chasing his orgasm and I know he’s not going to pull out. The thought sends me closer to the edge. 

“Ah… I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna shoot my load inside you and breed you up real nice. You’d like that, huh?” I can do nothing but give him an answering moan as he rubs my clit aggressively now, his thrusts becoming erratic. The tension in my body builds, the pleasure almost overwhelming. He bites down into the skin of my shoulder, the pain a welcome addition to the intense feelings. 

With a low groan I feel him tense up above me and a flood of wet heat spills deep inside me as his member throbs. His orgasm sends me over the edge, my muscles clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure crash through my body. I moan wantonly as I begin to come down from my high, breathing heavily as he pulls out and steps backwards.

I stay put for a few moments, my legs feeling too weak to stand up straight. He haphazardly pulls my panties up over my ass and mumbles something about keeping his seed inside of me. I feel a warm trickle as his fluids begin to leak out, and my muscles clench to try to keep it inside my body. When I finally stand up, I turn to face him as I smooth down my clothes. He has a smirk on his face that pisses me off now that I’m not being ruled by hormones.  
He walks around me to get in the car, and when he turns the key, AC/DC’s highway to hell blares out of the open window. He pulls the car into reverse and sends me a little wave before pulling out of the parking lot and down the road, music fading as I stand once again alone in the dark.


	2. No Kidding

I lean over the porcelain sink in the bathroom of my tiny apartment. The air feels too hot, and I turn on the tap to splash a little bit of cold water on my face. When I look up at myself in the mirror, I notice dark circles under my eyes. I haven’t been sleeping well since my encounter with Dean, a little over three weeks ago. 

I take a steadying breath and check the timer on my phone. I only have two minutes left to wait and I start pacing again, my bare feet on the cold tiles barely keeping me grounded. I startle a little when the timer rings and I hurry over to the counter to look down at the pregnancy test. Tears well up in my eyes when I see the result and I lean back against the wall, sliding down on the floor to wrap my arms around my knees.

Positive.

A wave of nausea hits me, and I lean over the toilet and heave, my stomach empty except for the glass of water I drank upon waking. I wipe my mouth with my forearm, the bitter taste of bile on the back of my tongue. I stand up after a few moments and look at myself sideways in the mirror. My belly isn’t any bigger than usual, but now there’s a baby in there. Well, a fetus, technically. The thought is terrifying. I’m not ready to be a mother. What the hell do I know about raising kids? Tightening my messy ponytail, I leave the bathroom and glance around the unremarkable apartment.

The space isn’t big enough to bring a baby into the mix. The kitchen is to my left with a table and two chairs I bought off a family friend, the living room to the right with an old ratty couch, a flea-market coffee table, a bookshelf and a TV. My bedroom and the bathroom are down the hall that’s painted a dull greige color, and I suddenly feel like the walls are closing in on me. I need to get out of here, maybe see a friend. I stop myself before walking out the door. I haven’t decided if I’m keeping the baby or not, but I figure it’s important to eat well if I want the little bugger to be healthy. I grin at the nickname and grab an apple off the counter before heading out.

The stairwells of my apartment building are poorly lit, the yellow tinted lightbulbs flickering eerily, even at eight o’clock in the morning. I’ve grown used to it in the three years I’ve been living here. Outside, the street is quiet except for an older man in weathered clothes foraging through a garbage can down the street. I walk quickly to my car, the old 1971 Chevy Nova that my parents gave me on my sixteenth birthday. It’s the only thing I have left of them. When I turn the key in the ignition, it makes a whining noise. Maybe I could fix it if I’d paid better attention when my dad was teaching me how to work on it. After a couple more tries, the car roars to life and Skynyrd’s Simple Man plays. 

I take the scenic route to Ann Marie’s house, drumming on the steering wheel and singing loudly. It’s warm enough to have the windows down, and I pull the elastic out of my hair to let it blow in the wind, tangles be damned. The powerful classic rock songs on the radio brighten my spirits as I delight in the freedom of the open road. By the time I pull into her driveway my mood’s lifted and I’ve almost been able to forget about the situation that’s weighing on my mind. 

After a couple knocks on her front door, Ann Marie’s ushering me inside with a mouth full of the blueberry muffin she holds in one hand and a messy bun to one side of her head. “Want some breakfast or coffee? I just put on a fresh pot.” I almost say yes, then remember that caffeine probably isn’t good for the baby, so I shake my head with a small smile.

“Whoa, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you say no to a cup of Joe. You’re like a step away from needing an IV drip to get through the day.” I shift uncomfortably and the amused smile falls away from her face. She steers me over to the table and I unceremoniously drop the bomb. Why beat around the bush? All I can do is watch as she processes, emotions flickering through her eyes until she decides on anger. 

She gets up and paces. Then sits back down. Her hands reach across the table to cover mine. I tell her about my encounter with Dean but leave out certain parts, like how he said he wanted to ‘breed’ me as if he were some kind of animal and how I could’ve sworn his eyes flicked black for a moment. I’m still unsure of what to do with those pieces of information, and I don’t exactly want to come off as crazy. Ann Marie looks a little panicky when I’m done telling her what happened. 

“You have to go to the police, this sick bastard needs to be locked up. He even tried to get me up to his room on my break, I can’t believe this guy!” I shake my head solemnly.  
“Trust me, he’s something else. I don’t think the police can help us. Besides, it doesn’t feel right to press charges.” She looks at me, bewildered and silently waiting for an explanation as I bury my blushing face in my hands. “It wasn’t consensual. It wasn’t right, but it was honestly the best sex I’ve had in my life. How sick am I for saying that?” I lower my head in shame. “Come on, there’s nothing wrong with you, you can’t help how your body reacts to things.” A smile creeps onto my face at the memory. “Was it really that good?”

“Fuck yes. It was something straight out of my dirtiest fantasies. Being bent over the hood of his car, his hand tugging at my hair…” I lose myself in my thoughts, unconsciously biting my bottom lip. A low whistle brings me out of my head. “Boy, you aren't kidding..”

“So… you’re pregnant now. How are you dealing with that, have you thought about your… you know… options?” She looks awkward, unsure of how to have this conversation.

“Yeah. I haven’t decided if I want to keep it or not, I have an appointment at Planned Parenthood on Monday. Hopefully that will help me decide.” The sympathy in her eyes makes me squirm. The conversation is hitting too close to home, but before I can change the subject, she squeezes my hand. “No matter what you decide, I’m gonna be here for you… okay? You just tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it.”  
A single tear leaks down my cheek before I can stop it and Ann Marie kneels on the ground before me. My voice is strained when I try to speak, but at least I’ve stopped myself from crying. “We need to stop him, Annie. I can’t let this happen to anyone else.”

“Hey, don’t worry. We’re gonna figure this out, okay? We’re gonna hunt this guy down and teach him a lesson.”


	3. I Dreamed a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween to all of my fandom family! I thought it was pretty cool to see that I had 666 hits on this story when I checked it this morning. It's a sign-it's time to upload the next chapter!
> 
> Don't forget to bookmark this story and subscribe so you don't miss any new updates. 
> 
> Much Love, WNTLC

My body is naked and cold from the icy air that blows against my skin from my open bedroom window. The frame was locked when I went to bed. As I try to sit up, the handcuffs restraining my wrists clang against the metal rungs of the bedframe. Struggling against my binds doesn’t get me anywhere. Heart pounding in my chest, I squint my eyes to look around the dark room. There’s a dark figure in the corner. I try to scream but it comes out jagged and quiet, as though I’m losing my voice. He approaches and towers over me at the end of the bed. It’s too dark to make out any specific features but my body knows. Each of my cells reaches out to him, wants him closer. I need to feel his hot breath against my neck as his body moves on top of mine.

“Dean.” My voice is a coarse whisper as he takes his jacket off, then his shirt. The outline of his broad shoulders and defined arms makes me ache for him even more and I become aware of how turned on I’m becoming. He kneels on the bed before me and my heart races in anticipation. His slow prowl over my body is a sweet torture. I lie perfectly still, excitement bubbling in my chest as I relish the feeling of his hot breath when he lowers his head to drag my nipple through his teeth. His stubble prickles against my skin as he trails his tongue over my collar bone and onto my neck, where he roughly sucks another mark into my skin. 

He slides back down my body and puts his hands on my hips. When he pulls me down closer to him, my arms extend and the metal cuffs pinch the skin on my wrists. He moves his hands to my knees and pushes them open, spreading my thighs until I feel a burning stretch in my hips. I’m wide open, exposed before him. He bends to put his mouth against my inner thigh, his teeth scraping and pinching at the delicate skin before the gentle laving of his tongue soothes the sensitive areas. His mouth creeps closer to my centre and I buck my hips into his face. A dark laugh rumbles from his chest.

“Eager, are we? I can’t have you misbehaving, my little slut. I decide when and where you get touched.” I whimper at his words and he lowers himself between my legs. He tongues his way up and down my folds. He’s avoiding my clit and my hips move again, which prompts him to press down on my knees further to keep me pinned. The stretch is too much, I never was very flexible, but my sharp intake of breath doesn’t stop him. Instead, he finally puts his lips around my clit and sucks hard. A guttural moan escapes my lips as I throw my head back against the pillow. When he swirls his tongue against me, all of my muscles tighten and the tension in my abdomen coils.

Before I’m sent barrelling over the edge, he pulls away. He leans back on his heels to unzip his jeans, pulling them off with his boxer briefs before climbing up my body to straddle my chest. He spits onto my chest and spreads his saliva over the skin between my breasts. Calloused hands squeeze my flesh together and he groans as he pushes his erection into the crevice. His hot skin is pulsing and precum is leaking from the tip of his cock. I breathe heavily and squeeze my thighs together, whining at the lack of friction.

His thrusts are quicker now and the only sounds in the room are the heavy breaths from our mouths and the suction noises as he thrusts. I bite my lip to avoid moaning, unwilling to show him that this is driving me crazy. His hips stutter and his cock twitches as he groans out his orgasm, semen shooting out onto my collar bone. He remains propped up on my chest but moves his fingers to scoop up the mess. When he puts his fingers against my lips, I open my mouth to lick his fingers clean, swallowing every last drop that he offers me. 

Suddenly he’s gone. The room is warm again and I awaken, sweaty in my bed. My panties and pajama shorts are soaked through and I groan in frustration. I push my hand beneath the waistband and roughly palm at my heated sex, bucking my hips at the glorious pressure. Impatient, I slide a finger between slick folds and mercilessly rub circles over my clit. I grind my hips in time with my ministrations, panting and moaning without reservation. I’m already so far gone and I chase my peak, rubbing fast and pressing hard until my muscles tense up and I let go with a loud groan of Dean’s name. My muscles clench rhythmically and pleasure rolls through my body as I slowly rub myself, riding out the aftershocks of my orgasm. Satiated, I roll over and fall into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, the shrill ring of my alarm startles me awake. I switch it off and sit up, looking at the grey sky through the window. My muscles feel tense and when I stand up, I feel a dull ache in my hips. I remember the vivid dream I had and wonder if I’d moved in my sleep along with Dean’s actions. Embarrassment swells in my chest. The sticky feeling between my thighs makes me anxious for a shower, so I head to the bathroom and strip down. Turning on the hot water in the shower, I notice dark red marks on my wrists. I remember back to my dream, the clink of metal on metal as I writhed against the handcuffs. A chill runs down my spine as I consider that it might not have been a dream.

I turn to face myself in the mirror and notice a purple mark on my neck, the spot Dean had sucked on last night. My eyes overflow with angry tears and I step into the shower, trying to remember details that are already becoming muddy. I distinctly remember waking up from a dream in the middle of the night to finish myself off. It all felt so real, but the memories seem far away and I’m doubting myself, confused at the blurred lines between reality and imagination.

Forty five minutes later, I’m dressed, fed and heading out the door to my appointment at Planned Parenthood.  
 


	4. Heartbeat

The pamphlets in the pocket of my hoodie feel much heavier than a just few pieces of paper. I get in the car and sit in the parking lot, mulling over everything I talked about during the appointment. Fear blossoms in the pit of my stomach as I try to picture myself as a mother. One hand moves over my belly of its own volition and as I look down, I admit to myself that I won’t be able to go through with the abortion. I’m going to have this baby, and I have a lot to think about before then. 

The drive back home feels too long, and my mind starts to wander. Reliving the events of the last couple of weeks, I try to devise a plan to find Dean. I don’t know much about him, he seems like a bit of a drifter as far as I can tell. The image of Dean’s black eyes flashes into my mind, but I push it away, convinced that there’s no use dwelling on something my imagination conjured up. I anxiously tap my thumb against the steering wheel when I consider once again how dangerous he is, a violent force of nature leaving innocent lives destroyed in his wake. 

I need to find this guy and put an end to it all, if not for his future victims, then for the life I carry inside of me. Surely, he would be back to collect the child sooner or later. His emphasis on breeding and ‘continuing the bloodline’ that momentous first night made that much clear. I’m a vessel to carry something he wants and needs. This gives me an advantage, I hope. While I’m carrying his child it’s possible he won’t hurt me, making me the only one who can find him and finish this. The best way to start would be to find as much information about this guy as I possibly can, I make a mental note to talk to Randy, the bouncer who was working at the bar when Dean was hanging around. 

The parking lot is nearly empty and there’s a man sitting on the curb, shoulders hunched over and shaking as he wrings his hands. I recognize him from just a few days ago. He’d been searching through a garbage can near the bus stop. 

“Hey, are you okay? Can I help you with something, sir?” I stay a safe distance away from him, starting to walk away when he doesn’t respond. Then he says my name. It’s muffled but confident and a quiet sense of dread stops me in my tracks. I turn back to him. His shoulders are still shaking as he lifts his head. I’d thought he was crying but the hysterical laugh bubbling from his chest makes my stomach twist. His eyes are pale blue, covered in cataracts so thick I doubt he’s even able to see me. His face and jacket are covered in the blood that is still leaking from the three deep gashes down each of his cheeks. His voice cracks and his features turn stoic when he repeats my name. “Dean says you should start locking your bedroom window when you sleep. Something bad could happen to you.”

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I step backwards before taking off, running until I’m safely in the stairwell of the apartment building. A wave of nausea hits me then, and I fall to my knees to get sick into a wastepaper basket by the mailboxes. The yellowish hue of the lights makes the room seem sickly, and I wait until my knees feel strong enough to climb up the stairs to my apartment.   
I close the front door behind me and rest my forehead against the chipped painted wood. My shift at The Black Spur starts in an hour. I plop down on the couch with my laptop, searching police media releases and news reports from around the state. I’m looking for anything that could be tied to Dean, hoping to find patterns of his behaviour. To my surprise, I don’t find any official descriptions that resemble him and I figure it’s likely because he threatened anyone who tried to stop him. 

I suddenly become aware of a quiet tapping sound coming from my bedroom. I put my guard up. Creeping over beside the doorframe with my back against the wall, I peer in carefully. No one is inside. I let out a relieved laugh and curse myself for being such a coward. Walking in, I sit at the edge of my bed and look down at the parking lot from my window. The man is gone but I feel a sense of unease as I remember his words. When I reach for the latch on my window, my hand meets the frame. The lock is gone, carefully removed with the right tools. My heart beats in my ears. The room starts spinning. He’s toying with me and he’s winning.   
The bedroom door slams shut behind me and I can’t help but scream. I move to my bedside table and grab a ballpoint pen, the makeshift weapon doesn’t help much in calming my nerves. I move to the door and swing it open, quickly putting my back up against the wall and surveying the apartment. No one is there and everything is how I left it. I quickly run out the front door and down to my car, starting the engine quickly then racing down to work. At least there, I know I won’t be by myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think about the story so far. Thanks for reading!  
> WNTLC

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to bookmark this story and subscribe so you don't miss any updates. 
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Much Love, WNTLC


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